The man in the moon and I are calmly staring at each other. From the screened porch of a friend's cabin, the hilly, most southwestern finger of the Appalacians, the night is calm. Crickets are chirping, "You're here. You're here. Relax. Relax." After the furious intesity of summer panic, this is sweet, sweet calm. Sweet, sweet rest. Sweet, sweet refreshment. Sweet, sweet gift from God.

Forever Changed

Here in Memphis there is a 5K run in memory of Forrest Spence, who lived a total of 55 days. Last Wednesday 's COMMERCIAL APPEAL quoted the co-chairman of the event, "the outpouring of love the Spences received during Forrest's life forever changed them..."

An experience of almost drowning in the deluge of love and support of God and His people does just that. As my friend Sally said of the experience of having breast cancer, "You'll never see things the same way again."

Friends called, sent cards, showed their support on Facebook and brought food, mountains of it. I don't know when I have felt so loved! When my granddaughter asked if all these people were our best friends, I replied that many weren't. They were simply being the hands and feet of Jesus to us. "That's what the body of Christ does.

And I am overwhelmed! Honored beyond belief to be part of this all. It's much easier to give than receive, but I felt His love as I let them give.

Some time in the 1960's, television changed from black and white to color. Technicolor they called it. I remember sitting on the sofa in my cousin's living room and marveling at the difference. What had been flat and grey suddenly burst into a rainbow of blues and greens and yellows and reds. Characters on the same shows I had watched many times before suddenly had blue eyes or red hair, instead of monochromatic grey. They wore clothing that was bright purple or orange or emerald green, instead of the pants and shirts and ties and dresses that had been variations on the color blah! Nothing was what it appeared to be before!

So life is after cancer. I stop and watch and listen carefully to the world around me. The neighborhood dressed in a lush summer green with pink and purple flowers in her hair. My granddaughter's giggle is a tiny bell ringing joy inside me. The smell of bacon and eggs being prepared in a corner of the gas station around the corner is strong, inviting perfume making me heady with prospects of home cooking heaven. People I love are timeless treasures enriching me with their presence.

So I begin this new portion of my life with joy in my heart and my little-girl hand firmly clasping the big one of my Heavenly Father.

End of a Hurricane

Here it is. What looks like the end of this storm of the summer. The oncologist said that all fifteen doctors on the board agreed that no treatment would be needed to follow up my mammogram! He dismissed me as a patient, saying that I no longer needed an oncologist.

God is so good!! Would he still be good if I had had to have chemo? Yes. Would He still be good if the cancer had killed me this time? Yes. Will He always be good? YES!!

My friend Mimi lost her battle with cancer last weekend. Is God still good? Yes! She would say the same as she delights in His presence! She is forever with the Savior she loved.

 It's devastating to her family and friends here with our feet firmly planted on this clay planet. She didn't want to leave her family. With her kind heart, she never would have wanted her husband, daughter and son to go through any pain. Certainly pain on this scale. They will always miss her vibrant personally and enthusiasm for life.

Mimi is basking in the presence of Him who loves her more than any of us here on earth ever could. And she knows His goodness. And that His plan is good. And that being in his presence, free of sadness and pain, is worth it all.

New Wrinkle

 Just as I'm relaxing and planning for the months ahead, a new wrinkle appears in the situation. Chemotherapy is now a possibility. The few tiny minute pieces of cancer that escaped a capsule are a highly aggressive form. A panel of fifteen oncologists will meet tomorrow to decide my future.

As my nurse-daughter says, "Mom, if there's anything you can do to keep the cancer from coming back, do it!"

That's logical. It makes perfectly good sense. It's really wise. But, it's MY body, MY hair and MY schedule this fall. That makes it altogether different.

Ok. Deep breath. Think. MY body? MY hair? MY schedule?

Who made me? Who do I belong to? Who rescued me from myself when I was sixteen? Who gave my life meaning? And still does? Who is my Lord and Master?

It's not MY body, MY hair and MY schedule. It's Yours, Lord. They're all Yours.

So, I'm up for what You will permit and give me strength to make through. In fact, You'll teach me and grow me. I'll get to know you closer. So, as the Ginny Owens song says,

            I'll walk through the valley,
             If You want me to.

But it still makes my stomach turn to think about it. I can still be trusting You and having a churning stomach at the same, can't I, Lord?